


Shattered on the Ground

by ironxprince



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Parenting, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/pseuds/ironxprince
Summary: Due to excessive drinking, Tony begins losing his memory.He slowly forgets about Peter.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 32
Kudos: 159





	1. Part one

**Author's Note:**

> Alcohol TW. Tony is slightly OOC and an asshole. Poor parenting ensues.

[ 12 ]

The first time it happens, Peter blames it on the alcohol.

A party (as much as Pepper tries to market it as a  _ gathering _ ) is being hosted at the Tower for the Avengers and their sponsors. Peter’s sticking close by Tony, an alcohol-free glass of champagne in his hand, as he pulls at the collar of a suit that’s too tight and walks across a floor that’s too shiny with shoes that are too slippery. He smiles and stays silent as Tony charms investors, being introduced as Tony’s  _ protege, the best there is. _ Peter sighs with relief when Tony finally heads toward where Steve and Bruce are huddled in the corner, looking as awkward as Peter feels in the crowded environment.

Tony slides over to them, bumping his shoulder against the Captain’s. “Come on, old man, loosen up. You’re not still iced, are you?”

Steve rolls his eyes and Bruce chuckles into his glass as he finds Peter’s eyes. “Oh, hey, Peter.”

“Hello, Doctor Banner,” Peter manages to answer, still a little starstruck. Bruce slides closer to Peter and quiets his voice as he eyes the room.

“Not a fan of these things,” he says, “but it keeps us in society’s good books, and I definitely won’t argue any chance at that.” Peter nods his agreement, blinking against the harsh overhead lights that appear to grow brighter with every passing second. “Hey, how’s school going?”

Peter opens his mouth to answer when Tony nudges his shoulder. “This kid? Killing it.” He takes a sip from his glass, a detail Peter barely notices, at the time. He should’ve paid more attention. “One of MIT’s best.”

Peter stills. Maybe the music’s too loud, or maybe the headache that’s been building behind his eyes for the last hour finally broke, but he could’ve sworn Tony just said  _ MIT. _

“Mr. Stark, I’m still in high school,” Peter says with a small smile as he looks up to Tony. The expression he sees on his mentor’s face stops him in his tracks.

The music seems to fade and the lights zero in as Tony looks down on him, brow furrowed and lips pursed. He looks confused, like his internal thinking process has just…  _ stopped. _ There’s no analyzing behind his eyes, no process to come to a conclusion. His expression looks  _ blank. _

All at once the party filters in, and Peter winces as the music crescendos. Tony chuckles then, life flooding back into his features as he claps his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Ah, yes. You’re still at the…”

“Midtown.”

“Midtown, right. MIT, on your way, though.”

Peter chuckles, turning away from Tony and ignoring the voice that screams  _ panic _ in his mind. He writes it off as Tony having one too many drinks.

He doesn’t realize just how correct he is.

[ 11 ]

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter calls as he hops into the lab, sliding his backpack off his shoulders and dropping it under his desk. He finds Tony at the far end of the space, the man seeming to be buried beneath a heap of metal. He weasels his way out when he hears Peter’s voice, staring at him from across the room.

“What are you doing here?”

The words aren’t meant to hurt, Peter knows that -- and there’s nothing malicious behind them, it’s the  _ opposite. _ There’s  _ nothing  _ behind them, no recognition.

A blank page.

Peter remains motionless, unsure. “It’s Tuesday,” he says. Tony stares back at him, confused. “It is, isn’t it? Um, we-we have lab sessions today, right? Or did I get it wrong? Maybe I-” Peter reaches for his backpack, scrambling to find his agenda. He’s  _ sure _ today is Tuesday, because he had a history test, and-

“Oh, right,” Tony calls from across the room. “Of course. Make yourself comfortable, get to working.”

Peter nods, trying not to worry about it. Maybe it’s been a busy day, or Tony’s just lost track of time -- it’s not like he hasn’t spent days down in the lab before, the passage of time merely a side note tacked onto his projects.

Peter settles at his desk and begins to withdraw notebooks. He’s almost written the incident off when he sees it, an amber glass sitting on the corner of his desk.

Half-empty.

So, so Tony’s been drinking. He does that; he’s an adult. He knows how to regulate it and he knows how to be safe. It’s fine.

It’s fine.

[ 10 ]

The third time is one of the worst, and there’s no glass in sight.

The week previous, Tony invited Peter over for a night in with the team.  _ It’ll build morale, _ Bruce had suggested. The rest of them only agreed for the arm wrestle competitions.

Peter shows up on Saturday evening as expected, a large bag of popcorn tucked under his arm. Peter’s sure it will be gone within the hour, but nothing lasts long in their line of work, anyway. He’s come a bit later than he was expected. There was an attempted robbery across his path, and what was he supposed to do, ignore it?

He hears the music playing even before he steps off the elevator, and this allows him to go unnoticed as he searches in the kitchen for a bowl to pour the popcorn into. Further away from the sounds of the music and triumphant cheers, he hears something new, something hushed.

He hears voices.

Peter doesn’t mean to listen in, really. He tries to back away and leave the conversers be; but then, he hears his name.

“Where’s the kid?” someone, maybe Rhodes, says.

“Who?”

That voice is definitely Tony’s, and Peter almost loses his balance.

“Well- Peter.”

There’s silence, and Peter feels the ground sway beneath his feet. Is that really Tony’s voice? Maybe Peter’s mistaken; there’s no way he’s been forgotten.

“Who’s Peter?”

Peter slams his hands against the kitchen counter when his knees give out beneath him.

The music quiets, and conversations come to an abrupt halt. Faces appear in the corner of Peter’s vision wearing concerned looks and sharing confused glances, but all Peter can focus on is the face that rounds the corner.

It’s Tony’s face, and his expression is horrifyingly empty.

For a moment, all Tony does is stare. He blinks. Peter’s eyes are wide.

And then, Tony grins. “Ah, there you are, underoos. Come on in. Make yourself at home.” He takes a handful of popcorn from the bowl Peter had just filled before striding into the other room, those who had gathered now satisfied and following him in. Rhodes remains, regarding Peter hesitantly from the doorway.

“What was that?” Rhodes asks quietly. Peter does not allow himself to blink; tears are too close to the surface. He simply shrugs. “Peter. Is that a joke you two play?”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Peter whispers, suddenly not feeling like a party of any kind. “He’s forgetting a  _ lot. _ I thought he was just tired or confused or something, but…”

Peter feels his expression fall; he doesn’t try to hide it. This is all in his head, right? Rhodes is about to tell him that,  _ Hey, you’ve been pranked! _ And Tony will stride back into this kitchen, rest his arm around Peter’s shoulders, and tell him that, yes, I do know what school you attend and what days we work together in the lab.

Yes, I know who you are.

_ Oh, my god. _

_ He doesn’t know who I am. _

But, no, Rhodes is about to tell him that it’s all alright, that it’ll all be fine -- because that’s how it is, right? It’s always fine.

Rhodes’ lips are pressed into a thin line. “I’ll call someone and see what I can find out.” Peter’s heart sinks to the floor, carving a hole through blood and bone all the way down as Rhodes steps past him toward the party. He hesitates at Peter's side as he passes. “It’ll be fine,” he says.

As much as Peter wanted to hear it before, now, he can’t bring himself to believe it.

[ 9 ]

It’s something new, the doctors say -- a mix of many things. The excessive alcohol; the near-death experiences putting him through pain, both mental and physical, again and again; radioactivity leaking through the suit; constant head injuries against the metal of the helmet as he’s knocked down.

Tony is experiencing memory loss.

“Why only Peter?” Rhodes asks after Tony leaves the room, scoffing about, “ _ I’m in perfect condition. Tip-top. Look, I can’t think of anything I’m forgetting. _ ”

The doctor looks at Peter almost pitifully. It makes Peter feel infinitely worse.

“It may be a combination of the factors we’ve discussed, plus dissociative amnesia. Mr. Parker was involved in something Mr. Stark does not want to remember, and so he’s chosen to forget.”

The words hit Peter like a punch to the gut.  _ He’s chosen to forget.  _ It’s not by accident. It wasn’t the alcohol. Tony’s not forgetting about Peter; he’s chosen not to remember.

Peter’s head spins as the world swirls around him.  _ Tony doesn’t-- Why doesn’t he want-- _

_ What did I do wrong? _

“-eter? Hey, bud.” Rhodes is leaning close to him, a hospital room just out of focus behind. “Maybe we can find something. This is what we do. Avengers, right? We’re freaks of nature every day, just by existing.” Rhodes smiles. Peter doesn’t think he is. “Is there anything you can think of that Tony wouldn’t want to remember, something you were involved in?” Wordlessly, Peter shakes his head. He had always tried to be good, tried to be deserving of the role Tony allowed him to have in his life. He can’t imagine…

“Well, there are also many other factors affecting this issue. Don’t worry, Mr. Parker,” the doctor says, his words overly cheery and carving their way through Peter’s skull. “I’m positive we can figure this out.”

Peter’s not so sure.

[ 8 ]

Peter finds his way into the lab, nervously stepping forward. Tony sits at his desk, staring off into the middle distance. He blinks the fog away as Peter gets closer and gives him a smile. “What’s up?” he asks.

Peter wants to smile, wants to meet Tony’s lighthearted tone, but he can’t bring himself to. Tony’s face falls and he nods in understanding, gesturing to the desk across him. Wordlessly, Peter takes a seat.

“Look, Pete,” he says. “I don’t know why the doc said what he did. Frankly, I don’t even care. I’m  _ fine, _ see? Fit as a fiddle.”

Peter frowns discouragingly. “You forgot where I went to school.”

Tony shrugs. “I was just thinking ahead. Easy oversight.”

“And then you forgot we had a lab day-”

“Well, geez, kid, I can’t be expected to remember  _ everything, _ can I?” Tony cuts in, his voice sharp. Peter stiffens, taken aback. Tony’s never been this irritable before, especially not with him.

Something’s wrong.

Something’s  _ seriously  _ wrong.

“I don’t know what everyone’s so worried about,” Tony huffs. “I’d never forget you, alright? Now, get outta here. I’ve gotta finish this.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and he remains frozen in his seat. Was- was he just kicked out of the lab? Did Tony just kick him out?

“Got something else to say?” Tony mutters, looking somewhere across the lab. Peter stands, stumbling over his chair in his haste to leave the room. He doesn’t notice the open liquor cabinet as he goes, the half-empty bottles fallen in a heap in front of it.

_ I’d never forget you, _ Tony said.

_ You already did. _

Peter finds the bathroom furthest away from the lab and locks the door behind him. He turns on the fan, runs the tap water, and lets the tears fall.

[ 7 ]

When Peter pounds his fists on Rhodes’ bedroom door seven minutes later, his eyes are still red.

Rhodes pulls open the door and steps back in shock upon seeing Peter’s tear-stained cheeks. “Whoa- you alright, kid?”

Peter sniffles, wiping his forearm across his face. “There’s something wrong with him. He won’t remember, he -- he’s irritable, he-”

“Alright, take a breath,” Rhodes says, placing his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “What’s going on?”

Peter looks down, scuffing his feet on the carpet. Now that he’s here, it all sounds stupid, but it worries him enough to say it.

“He kicked me out of the lab.”

Rhodes frowns, his brow crumpling. “Was he upset about something? Working on something dangerous that he didn’t want you around for?”

Peter shakes his head, barely able to breathe around the lump in his throat. “I was just-  _ sitting  _ there,” he says quietly. “And I tried to tell him I was worried about him but, I guess I didn’t really say it like that, and he got upset and just… told me to leave.” Peter shrugs, swallowing thickly. “He was just staring off into the distance.”

Rhodes is quiet for a moment, looking somewhere above Peter’s head, before he lets out a slow breath. “Alright, I’ll talk to him. And I’ll see if I can contact that doctor, too. We’ll… we’ll get some help.” Peter nods, averting his gaze as he gnaws heavily on his lower lip. Rhodes pats him lightly on the shoulder.

_ If he tells me it’s going to be alright, _ Peter thinks with a sudden fury,  _ I’m going to scream. _ Luckily, Rhodes doesn’t say anything of that sort. He says nothing at all.

Peter doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse.

[ 6 ]

Rhodes stomps down to the lab, a fresh fury in his veins. There’s Tony, Rhodes can see him through the glass, staring off into space. His expression is emotionless, without a care in the world.

Rhodes pulls the door open harder than he should’ve and it crashes against the wall. Tony startles, narrowed eyes searching the doorway.

“You’re paying for that,” Tony calls lightly.

“You’re a millionaire. Shut up,” Rhodes huffs. “What did you do to the kid?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Tony’s eyes drift down to his desk. Rhodes stomps over to him, snapping his fingers in front of Tony’s face.

“What did you say to him?” Rhodes demands.

Tony slouches lower in his chair. “Those doctors are a bunch of hacks, you know.”

Rhodes freezes, catching a whiff of something that shouldn’t be down in the lab, that shouldn’t be near Tony, and especially not in the quantity Rhodes smells it in. He smells it on Tony, definitely, but more overpowering…

He’s led to the liquor cabinet in the corner. The open liquor cabinet, with bottles toppling out.

Slowly, Rhodes turns back to Tony whose eyes have found the ceiling. “Again?” Rhodes says quietly. Tony drags his eyes back down. “Still, Tony? You’re still doing this?”

Tony shrugs. “Dunno what you’re-”

Rhodes slams his hand down on the table. “No, you shut up. Do you know what you’ve been doing to that kid upstairs?”

Tony frowns. “Not my fault he’s so sensitive,” he mutters. Rhodes stills, the words stolen from his lips.

“Tony, this isn’t you.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve met my father. This is exactly what I am.”

Rhodes permits himself a moment, a single moment to allow himself to feel the despair and horror that’s carved its way into his heart before steeling himself. “You need to snap out of this. You’re going to stop drinking, for one. I’m taking all these-” he gestures angrily to the far wall- “and Jarvis is your new babysitter. And I’m going to buy you puzzles to work on that brain of yours.” Tony snorts. “Shut it. You’ve got to fix this, Tony. You’re meant for much better than this.”

Rhodes lets the words sit between them for a moment, lets Tony stare down at his desk in a haze. “I’m worried about you, man.”

Tony waves him off weakly. “I’m fine.”

Rhodes shakes his head, pushing off that desk. “That kid is one of the best things to ever happen to you,” he says quietly. “Don’t you dare lose him.”

Tony doesn’t respond, and Rhodes scowls as he collects as many bottles as he can before leaving the lab.

The bottles clink between his trembling hands.

[ 5 ]

Rhodes trashes the bottles. He puts Jarvis on babysitting duty. He buys the damn puzzles, and he calls the doctors.

No one has any idea what’s going on.

[ 4 ]

It’s been days since Peter last communicated with Tony. Just the thought of the man makes his heart skip a beat and his breath stop. What if Tony’s gotten worse? What if he forgets again? Or what if he gets angry?

Peter tries to avoid Tony whenever possible. He’s actually developed a healthy schedule because he knows Tony doesn’t have one. Patrols end at eight, on the dot. He does homework the entire time before and sleeps all after. (He’s in bed, at least. Sleep rarely comes.)

If Tony wants to reach out to Peter, he hasn’t done it yet. Peter’s never had to confirm lab sessions before. He wonders if he should now.

Instead, he texts Rhodes.

**_P.P.:_ ** _ hi sir. any updates? _

Rhodes reads the message almost instantly. It takes him a minute to respond.

**_J.R.:_ ** _ Nothing from the doctors, but we haven’t had any more episodes. _

**_J.R.:_ ** _ I’m back in Philadelphia. Haven’t been able to check on him for a bit, but Jarvis is. He should be alright. _

Peter’s fingers tremble as he types out his message.

**_P.P.:_ ** _ we have a session tomorrow. _

**_James Rhodes is typing…_ **

**_J.R.:_ ** _ Good luck. _

[ 3 ]

Peter doesn’t want to go. But if he doesn’t go, he’d have to tell May why, and Tony’s on thin ice with her as it is. Losing Tony is one thing; being forcefully torn from him is another.

Peter can’t decide which option he’d prefer.

He decides he at least has to give Tony a chance, so he catches a bus ride to the tower and rides the elevator up. Jarvis lets him in, and when he steps out into the main foyer, it’s silent, like the tower has been vacated.

Like he’s being avoided.

Peter makes his way to the lab with trembling steps. It’s almost absurd, how loud his heart beats in his ears.  _ Calm down, _ he tries to convince himself.  _ It’s okay. It’s just Tony. _

But Peter doesn’t even know who Tony is anymore.

By the time he reaches the lab, Peter’s head is spinning and he’s sure his face is white. He’s never truly felt  _ light-headed  _ before until this, until he finds the need to stabilize himself with a hand on the wall to his right. Still, the floor sways beneath him.

_ It’s just Tony. It’s just Tony. It’s just Tony. _

Peter pushes the door to the lab open.

Tony’s head flicks up instantly, eyes alert. “How’d you get in here?”

Peter grabs his wrist, an anxious mannerism. “Jarvis let me in.”

“You hacked him, huh?” Tony sniffles. “Smart kid.”

“Well, no, he-”

Tony leans back in his chair, eyeing Peter suspiciously. “So, whaddya want? Photo? Autograph?”

Peter’s heart stills in his chest. He feels like he might faint. “Sir?” Tony raises a brow. “It’s -- it’s me.”

“... uh-huh. I see that.”

“Sir, it’s Peter.”

Tony sighs, standing from his desk. “Alright Peter, it’s been fun, but I’m gonna call security now.”

“W-what? I-”

“Gonna have to fix Jarvis, too. See what you did to him. Hopefully you didn’t install any malicious software or-”

“I’m right here, Sir,” Peter hears echo from above.  _ Oh, thank goodness. Jarvis will help me. _ Tony eyes the ceiling warily. “Mr. Parker did nothing to my systems. I believe he’s only here to work with you.”

Tony chuckles, dropping his eyes back to Peter’s. “Nice addition. When’d you have the time to do that?” Peter’s mouth is dry. He couldn’t manage to say anything even if he tried, even if he knew the words. “I might even hire you to work for me, if you don’t end up anywhere for this little stunt you pulled.”

Tony moves forward, straightening his shoulders as his eyes darken. Peter, horrified, takes a step back.

“Get out of my building,” Tony demands.

Peter moves in a blur, feet stumbling over themselves as he scrambles to get away. His lungs can’t expand and his brain can’t analyze. All he thinks is  _ get out. Get out. Get out. _

_ It’s not Tony. _

Peter travels home without any recollection of the journey.

[ 2 ]

May asks him why he’s home early. Peter says he’s sick and locks himself in his room.

[ 1 ]

**_J.R.:_ ** _ How’d it go? _

Peter waits until the morning to respond. When he finally rolls over in bed to grab his phone, he finds his pillow wet.

**_P.P.:_ ** _ he doesn’t remember me. _

[ 0 ]

Rhodes assures Peter he’ll find something, a doctor who understands, a psychiatrist who could help, a solution that would work. Peter just decides to stay away. He’s the only thing Tony forgot, anyway. What’s the difference if he’s not there?

The world can’t lose Iron Man, but Peter Parker can’t lose Tony Stark.

Everything reminds Peter of Tony, now that he’s gone. Avengers Tower leans over the city, the tallest building on the skyline. There are murals and portraits and advertisements everywhere he goes. He doesn’t patrol for the first days after; he can barely bear to look at the suit. When he finally does go out, he doesn’t know where to go.

His mind’s not in it. He can’t focus.

Avengers Tower was his beacon, the centre of his patrols. Without it, where should he go?

Peter tries to stay away from it at first. He skirts the outsides of the city, finds the bridges, searches the alleyways. Somehow, his path leads him right back to that sculpted building, right before that large  _ A. _

Peter can’t fight it anymore. He’s too tired.

He settles on the top of a building nearest the tower, right below the  _ A. _ He scans floor after lit-up floor. He sees desks and tools, training rooms, laboratories. He knows which lab is Tony’s - it’s the one with the tinted windows, the one Peter can’t see inside. Still, he stares, longing for something he no longer has.

Will he ever get it back?

Peter’s sight blurs. His eyes shift. They cross floors and slide around the building as his feet dangle off the edge of the rooftop, letting the wind tip him and catch him and swirl him around. He lets himself fade into the world. He lets himself drift.

And he’s happy, for a minute.

And then his eyes pull him back, finding a subject. He’s torn back to the world, to that building, to the floor just above the tinted windows. He sees a figure, a man, holding something -- holding a glass.

Peter leans in closer, and he focuses.

The man is scanning the horizon. He looks up, and he looks down. Slowly, he turns.

Tony finds Peter at the same time Peter finds him.

Tony’s eyes widen. The glass tumbles from his hand.

It shatters at his feet.

[ 1 ]


	2. Part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for alcoholism, PTSD, bad parenting.

[ 1 ]

Peter rides the elevator up to Tony’s floor with tapping feet and twitching fingers. His suit is folded up in his backpack and he wears civilian clothes that he had planned for the trip back home to May after patrol, and maybe he would’ve made it home, but Tony had seen him; Peter knows he had. He’d dropped his glass.

Had he remembered?

The elevator seems to take ages to reach Tony’s floor. Maybe this was a mistake. Does Tony even want to see him? Maybe the glass fell because Tony tripped. Maybe he saw something in the building below Peter. Maybe-

No. Peter  _ knows _ Tony was staring directly at him. His eyes had widened. He had  _ seen. _

The elevator doors open, and Peter almost jumps back in surprise.

Tony stands on the other side of the door, brow furrowed. For a moment all he does is stare. And then, he steps aside and lets Peter in.

Peter twists his backpack straps as he steps past Tony, his eyes on the floor. It all seems…  _ different. _ The room is colder, the sharp furniture unfamiliar, the space uninviting, and the man Peter turns to see is worst of all.

His arms are crossed and his chin tipped up as he waits, watching Peter, studying him like an equation he just can’t solve.  _ At least he’s analyzing, _ Peter realizes with odd relief. Anything’s better than that blank stare Peter had been on the receiving end of one too many times.

“You’re the kid that hacked my systems,” Tony notes. Peter’s hands clench tighter around his backpack straps. “And you’re also Spider-Man.”

Peter says nothing, at a loss for words. Tony stands between him and the elevator. Of course, Tony is safe… well, he used to be. Now, Peter needs an escape plan. He needs to be ready.

For what, he’s not sure.

Tony sighs, moving to lean against the kitchen island. He never once takes his eyes off Peter. “See, here’s the thing,” he mutters. “I remember Spider-Man. I remember my relationship with him. I can match your face to his mask, and yet, I don’t know who  _ you _ are.”

Peter swallows thickly, rubbing his forearm as he looks away. “The doctor says… maybe I was involved in something you don’t want to remember.”

“And what would that be?”

Peter just shakes his head. Tony narrows his eyes. “Interesting,” he mutters, regarding Peter like a puzzle to be solved,  _ not  _ a child he cares for.

Well, at least he’s thinking of something… right?

After a moment of nothing but staring, Tony shrugs. “I’ve got nothing.” Peter just nods, looking away. “But I almost did. I guess I’ll just have to… keep working at it.”

Peter looks around the space in the silence that follows. He hasn’t been dismissed and doesn’t want to leave. Tony’s staring at him like he’ll figure it out in these next few seconds, and although Peter  _ knows _ that’s not how it works, he really hopes it would happen.

“Don’t take this personally; I’m trained to doubt.” Peter looks up suddenly at Tony’s ominous words. “Tell me something about myself only someone as close to me as you claim you are would know.”

At this, Peter almost smiles. He knows too many things about the great Tony Stark, but the one that will drive the point home in the shortest amount of time:

“You’re afraid of spiders.”

Tony huffs. “Am not.” And then he freezes in realization. “Well, alright then, I guess that settles the doubt.” Peter grins. It’s their first interaction that actually feels like  _ theirs  _ since this whole debacle started.

“Now, tell me something about you,” Tony suggests. “Something to jog my memory.”

Peter thinks for a moment, shuffling his feet in discomfort. What would be the best thing to share? What about him is important enough to trigger memories that were intentionally forgotten, for whatever reason? What will the man admired by the world care to know? Well, maybe that’s too big. Maybe the right memory is one that’s only theirs.

“I failed seventh grade science and had to retake it.”

Tony scoffs. “No, that was clearly your teacher’s fault. You’re too smart to fail a class, and especially not your favourite subject.”

He catches himself a second too late, looking up at Peter with wide eyes. A laugh bubbles up in Peter’s throat, something so honestly happy and miraculously hopeful that it catches him completely off-guard. “You remembered,” Peter says with a grin. Something flashes behind Tony’s eyes, something bittersweet.

“Yeah,” he says. “I guess I did.”

[ 2 ]

Peter uses the suit to carry himself home, swinging over buildings and diving deep into the streets. He startles a dog as he passes, creating a chaos of barking in an otherwise quiet neighbourhood.  _ Sorry, New York. _

He lands on the platform outside his apartment with a grin and a  _ CLANG. _ He’s just pulled his mask off and is feeling the night air on his skin, barely giving a thought to secrecy --  _ nothing can phase me now _ \-- when his bedroom window is shoved open and May’s head sticks out.

“What are you-” she stutters as Peter hops through the window, and she’s left to dodge out of his way. “There’s an element of secrecy to this job, you know.” Peter grins, shrugging as he steps into the bathroom and angles the door behind him to change out of his suit. May waits by his bed, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”

“Huh?” Peter asks, opening the bathroom door as he washes his face at the sink, now dressed in a fresh hoodie.

“You’re…  _ giddy. _ ”

“I think you’re seeing things,” Peter laughs.

“Oh, so I’m crazy now?”

“You were never sane.”

May reaches to slap Peter’s arm as he walks by but he dodges, hopping out of his bedroom door and leading the way to the kitchen. He heads straight for the fridge and opens the door without seeing any of the contents inside. “Wow, I’m starving.”

May hovers by the doorway, her lips twisting in uncertainty. “Are you sure you’re alright, Peter?”

Peter offers her a smile over his shoulder. “Never better.”

“Something good happen on patrol? Or is  _ patrol  _ just code and you snuck out to meet a girl- or boy, you know, no judgement. I used to sneak out too, and I had my fair share of secret dates, so if that’s why you’re happy, you know, I won’t be upset-”

“Seriously, May.” Peter rests a hand on her shoulder, his arms full of tupperwares of leftover food. “I’m fine.” And he skips off to his room. Literally,  _ skips. _

May sighs, watching him retreat.  _ I guess I’ll just be happy  _ he _ is. _

[ 3 ]

Of course, the week Rhodes decides to try and fix his schedule is the one when he gets a phone call at one a.m.

“Hi, Mr. Rhodes!” Peter greets cheerily. Rhodes flips onto his back as he blinks at the ceiling with blurry eyes.

“Hey, Peter. Everything alright?”

“He remembers.”

It takes Rhodes’ sleep-plagued brain a couple of minutes to catch up with the discussion. “He- Tony.”

“Yup!”

Rhodes swipes a hand across his eyes. This is great, really, but it’s also way too early. “He remembers everything? How did you- wait, you talked to him?”

“Well, he doesn’t remember  _ everything. _ He remembers Spider-Man, and I think we could use that. We almost…” Peter stops. “We almost had a normal conversation.”

Rhodes sits upright, swinging his feet onto the ground and standing from the bed. He paces to his bedroom window and watches the city lights below. “That’s great, kid,” he says quietly. “Really.”

“So, what do we do now? I think I should call him and we should talk some more, or I can go meet him in person -- maybe we could have a training session. I don’t really want to go back to the lab, but I’m sure there’s something else we could do.”

“Yeah, there is,” Rhodes interrupts. Peter lapses into an anticipating silence. “We could  _ sleep. _ ”

Peter huffs out a laugh, and Rhodes grins. “Oh, right.”

“Yeah.” Rhodes climbs back into bed. “I’m glad he remembers, even if it’s just a bit. This means he can remember the rest, right?”  _ He’s coming back to us. _

“Yes, Sir.” Rhodes swears he can hear the smile through Peter’s words.

“Have a good night, Peter.”

“You too.”

[ 4 ]

“Are you sure?” the doctor asks. Peter bounces on the balls of his feet.

“Well, it was a small thing, but something he couldn’t have known, and he told me that he  _ wanted _ to remember. Maybe he doesn’t want to forget me anymore and so he’s making himself remember, like he made himself-” Peter stops suddenly, swallowing thickly. He covers it with a smile. “He’s getting his memory back, I know it.”

The doctor nods, giving Peter a smile. Peter wants to roll his eyes. He’s seen this smile before. This is the,  _ You’re just a kid _ smile. The,  _ You’ll get it when you’re older _ smile. The,  _ I’ll entertain your ideas until you get out of my hair _ smile. Peter hates it.

He looks up to Rhodes, hoping for some backup. It was Rhodes he called last night, anyway. Rhodes got the initial recount, and so he should understand best.

Rhodes smiles back at him, patting Peter’s shoulder. “See, Pete? Just what I told you. Keep this up, he’ll be back in no time. We both know we can’t keep him down for long.” Peter tries to hide his excitement, but he just can’t.  _ Tony’s back; I’m getting him back. _

_ He remembers me. _

Rhodes clears his throat. “Speaking of, why don’t you go find him? See if you can jog something more from that memory of his.”

Peter slides off the table, lips twisting into a grin that he tries so hard to hide but he  _ just. Can’t.  _ He hurries from the office and makes it all of five steps when he realizes that Rhodes hadn’t followed him out.

He is speaking, though.

“What do you think about that?” Rhodes asks quietly, but between the door Peter left ajar and his enhanced senses, there’s no trouble at all to hear the worry in his voice.

The doctor sighs. “Is he still drinking?”

“As of two days ago, yeah.”

“Well… brain trauma doesn’t just go away overnight, and especially not without constant, devoted attempts to curb it.”

“So, what, you think Peter’s imagining the event, hoping for recollections and looking too far into Tony’s words?”

“I’m saying that if we can’t find the source of this selective amnesia, I’m not sure that Mr. Stark will ever return to who he was before.”

Peter stands with wide eyes just outside of the doorway, staring through the floor at nothing, and everything. His own heartbeat seems to echo around the hallways that are quickly closing in. He had been suddenly torn back to earth, pummelled back into the ground after he had convinced himself the situation warranted a celebratory flight, but now it all seems dismal, like there was nothing to celebrate in the first place. Tony may not…

_ But I almost got through to him. _

During their conversation the night before, it really seemed like Tony was right on the edge of himself, ready to spring to life and greet Peter as he always had, like he was  _ himself _ again. Peter almost got him back. He was capable of reminding Tony of who he was; he  _ is _ capable, he knows it. Now, he just has to prove it, has to prove that stupid doctor wrong.

_ I will make Tony remember. I will get him back. _

[ 5 ]

Peter has been psyching himself up all day to make this phone call. Today is Tuesday. Peter’s due to meet Tony in the lab; he just doesn’t know if Tony wants him there. Tony had remembered a bit about Peter, sure, but he could’ve forgotten since. He could’ve gotten… worse.

Peter jams his finger on the  _ call _ button before he can think anymore about it. He paces his room as the phone rings, ruffling the carpet in his wake. Peter thinks the call  _ definitely  _ should’ve gone to voicemail by now when Tony picks up.

“This is Stark.”

“Hi-” Peter stops, having to clear his throat. “Hi, Mr. Stark, it’s Peter.”

Tony hesitates for a moment. “Oh, right. Of course. What’s up, kid?”

“I was just, um, wondering if we had a lab session today.”

“Well, yeah. It’s Tuesday, right?”

Peter’s pacing comes to an abrupt stop and his heart soars.  _ He remembers. _ “Yeah.”

“When are you heading over?”

“Um, around five, maybe?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Peter hangs up the phone with trembling fingers and bites his lip in an attempt to curb the grin that threatens to break his face.  _ He remembers. Tony remembers. _ He’s still a bit abrupt, and it took him a while, but… he’s on his way there. Peter just has to keep working, and that’s what he thinks of the entire way there. What will jog Tony’s memory? What will get him to remember? What is most valuable to them both?

The bus ride to the tower doesn’t take long enough, and when Peter climbs off a block away from the building, he still has nothing. He kicks his way through leaves on the sidewalk and shivers under the wind that never seemed to bother him before, but now finds ways to sneak under his skin. The tower looms over him, getting closer and closer until Peter stands just beneath the large  _ A. _ He feels it’s going to topple on top of him.

_ You’re being silly, _ he thinks to himself as he pushes through the door and steps past security guards. The fact that he trips over his own feet as he enters tells him just how  _ not _ fine he is.

His face burns bright red as he stumbles to the private elevator, keeping his eyes down. He just has to take a breath. Tony showed evidence of getting better, and Peter knows he has the key to ignite it. He can do this. He  _ has _ to do this. He has to save Tony.

The elevator moves faster than Peter would’ve liked, and when he reaches the right floor he’s surprised to find it empty. This was how it had been  _ before _ , but now that he was like a stranger to Tony, he expected something more. Maybe Tony forgot he was coming?

Peter picks his way down to the lab, feeling alien in a place he had almost been ready to call home. The music reaches his ears before the lab touches his eyes, and for a moment, heading toward the music as it increases in volume, this almost feels…  _ normal. _

Peter rounds the corner to the lab, and Tony looks up at the movement, his eyes finding the boy through the glass. His lips move, saying something Peter can’t identify, and then the music quiets, only by a few notches. (It’s just what Peter needs to soothe his oversensitivity. Does Tony remember, or is he simply planning to have a conversation?)

Hesitantly, Peter pushes open the door, peeking his head through. Tony waves him over. “Come on in,” he says, and Peter steps inside, feeling unsteady on his feet. He settles in his desk chair, feeling wrong, feeling uninvited, but Tony hadn’t even noticed, having returned to his work.

Peter takes a breath and tries to relax. This is normal, almost muscle memory. He knows this. If Tony’s comfortable with Peter, Peter should be comfortable being here (and it means Tony’s not as far as that doctor thinks). Peter is able to leave his inhibitions behind, slowly but surely, as he settles into a pattern of work. Tony doesn’t engage as much as he had and barely looks at Peter, but at least he’s comfortable sharing his space; Peter knows how territorial he is.

The music plays, blueprints fly around, and Peter exchanges screwdriver for wrench. He tries to work, to pretend it’s all normal, to not make anything uncomfortable, but after 45 minutes he can’t pretend anymore.

“Mr. Stark, uh…” Tony looks up, hands stilling their constant motion. “Do you… remember anything, maybe? Or feel anything different?”

Tony’s eyes flit around the room as if he’ll learn something from the walls. After a minute he shrugs. “Sorry, kid.” Peter tries not to let his disappointment show. “If it’s any consolation, it feels almost natural working with you, even if I can’t…”

_ Remember me, _ Peter finishes solemnly. He can’t give up. Tony’s improving every day, leaps and bounds. If only Peter can push him a little further and prove that damn doctor wrong…

He tries to sound nonchalant, continuing his work as he speaks. “Well, this, um, the memory loss thing has lasted about two weeks-”  _ eleven days and seven hours- _ “and the doctors said it was triggered by something you wanted to forget-”  _ you wanted to forget me- _ “so, I dunno, what were you doing two weeks ago?”

Tony gently places his tools down and settles back in his chair. “Honestly, kid, if I had any idea, I would tell you.”

“Maybe if you just tried to think back, if there were logs or something-”

“Look, this is as difficult for me as it is for you.” Tony leans forward, speaking louder. “Clearly you mean something to me and I  _ want  _ to remember you- hell, I stopped drinking, fucking cold turkey. You know how hard that is?” He looks at Peter with something that almost looks like -- hell, a  _ glare, _ and Peter finds himself pressed back against his chair, looking up at this man who  _ isn’t  _ Tony.  _ It’s the alcohol, _ Peter realizes suddenly, the reason behind his irritability and his terrible attitude. If only,  _ if only  _ Peter could know why Tony started drinking; he’s sure that and the memory loss are connected.

Tony hasn’t moved, and Peter manages to look away from his angry expression long enough to see his clenched fists. For one horrifying moment, Peter realizes that… he’s  _ scared. _ He’s scared to be around Tony, worried what he might do in this state. A quick thought of  _ Howard _ crashes through Peter’s mind and has his shoulders tensing as Peter reflects on the trauma Tony’s own father left in him.  _ No, _ he thinks with newfound passion.  _ I will stop Tony from taking that path. I will save him. _

The alcohol is gone; that’s a good first step.

Tony shakes his head, huffing as he looks away. “I’ve gotta-” he mutters, standing from the desk. He waves his hand at Peter in a  _ do whatever you want _ gesture, but gives him no further attention as he stomps from the lab. Peter’s left watching the door slide closed, frozen in his chair.

He doesn’t realize he’s hunched over until he finds it difficult to breathe, and he forces himself to lean back, to stretch his arms up. He feels exposed, and vulnerable, and unsafe. His cheeks are wet.

The room begins to glow a faint blue. “Mr. Parker,” Jarvis says softly.

“Hi, Jarvis,” Peter says with a small smile. At least some things stay the same.

“I’m sorry.”

Peter swallows thickly, not wanting to give any thought to a software program expressing remorse. He knows Tony is intelligent enough to complete that task with ease.

“If it helps, I have footage from October 10th that may come in handy.”  _ October 10th, 12 days ago. _ Peter straightens in his chair, eyes widening.  _ This is it. This is the solution. _

“Can you tell me? Or -- or show me?”

“At 14:43 on October 10th, Mr. Stark received this video for review from Damage Control.” A projection loads on the wall in front of Peter, and he tilts his head in confusion. The footage is blurry and distorted. All he sees is gray; it’s some kind of rubble, some-

“ _ Hello? _ ” a voice shouts through the footage, and the sound of it sends chills through Peter. The terror the voice emits is palpable, but Peter doesn’t understand why until- “ _ Help, somebody, please, I’m down here, I’m- _ ”

Peter full-body convulses, tucking into himself with his hands over his ears and his knees pressed to his chest.  _ I’m down here, I- help, help, help- _

_ Not there. _

Peter has woken up from one too many nightmares about that night.

_ Not there. _

He knows what to do, how to breathe, how to recover.

_ Not there. _

How to remind himself that he’s okay.

_ Not there. _

That doesn’t mean he’s good at enacting the techniques, though.

Some time during his reaction that felt like it lasted at least a couple of minutes, and yet Peter was only aware of part of that, the footage had turned off. Peter’s left hunched in his chair with his breathing not yet steady.

_ Not there. It’s okay. Not there. You’re safe. _

It takes Peter a moment to unfurl himself from his tightened position, and another after that to remember what he’s doing here, why he watched the video in the first place.

“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Parker.” Peter waves Jarvis off, swallowing thickly with his hands on his knees. “I do have more footage to show you, if you believe you are ready to see it.”

_ I’m not ready for anything right now, _ his brain says.  _ Tony, _ his heart replies.

“Show me.”

A second video flickers to life on the screen. This one is dark and Peter realizes it’s taken in a bedroom, the footage recorded from above. He sees a bed, and lying in the centre curled up with his eyes squeezed tight-

“Tony,” Peter whispers.

The timestamp at the bottom corner reads  _ October 11. 1:10. _

Peter’s eyes shoot back up to the subject of the footage when he hears a whimper.

“No,” Tony whispers, the haunted word echoing around the room and reverberating in Peter’s ears. “Not- I can’t-” Tony curls in tighter on himself, and Peter has to force himself to keep his eyes on the screen. “Help him, help-” Tony kicks his legs out, thrashing beneath the sheets. “Can’t-  _ Peter, _ I can’t-”

Tony bolts upright, and Peter’s first thought is,  _ he’s awake _ \-- but his eyes stare across the room, blank even through the footage, looking at nothing. “Peter,” he whispers, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Don’t want to remember.” He lays back down, pressing his cheek into the pillow. “Please, forget,” he whispers to himself.

The video plays for ten more seconds until Tony’s breathing evens out. Peter doesn’t move his eyes an inch. He remains still as the projection turns off. He has yet to move when the lab door pushes open and Tony, real and awake, walks through, gingerly finding his seat.

“I don’t like when you get upset with me,” Peter says (because it’s all he can say), his vision yet to focus.

Tony nods, looking down. “I’m sorry about that.”

“You’ve stopped drinking.”

“It was a mistake to ever have started, really-”

“I know why you did.” Tony startles, meeting Peter’s eyes. Peter just nods. “I think I know what made you forget, too.”

Tony opens his mouth, then closes it again. “Well, are you going to tell me?”

Peter swallows thickly, his heart still beating erratically from his own trip down memory lane. “Jarvis,” he calls.

“Mr. Parker, I do not suggest.”

“Just show him,” Peter demands, his voice rough. “Please.”  _ I need Tony back. _

It takes a moment before the video plays again (likely Jarvis’ hesitation), the video from the warehouse, this time on a wall easily visible to both of them. Tony’s brow furrows as the scene is set. Peter watches him, only him. He’s seen this film before. He knows how it ends.

“I don’t recognize what this is-”

“ _ Hello? _ ” Peter winces. Tony blinks quickly. “ _ Help, somebody, please. _ ” Tony turns sharply to face Peter. “ _ I’m down here, I can’t, I can’t…. _ ”

Tony’s eyes blow wide. His hand flies to his chest. Peter’s vision tunnels, and for a minute he doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“Emergency services notified,” Jarvis informs them. Emergency- what, why-

Tony topples out of his chair.

[ 6 ]

The next seven minutes are all a blur. Peter, for the life of him, cannot make himself focus. He sees Tony on the floor and hears his own screams of the past echoing in his ears.  _ Help him. Help Tony. Somebody help me. _

Doctors run in not long after Peter loses control. He counts… maybe two, maybe three, one with a medical bag, and they lean over Tony.  _ No, _ Peter thinks suddenly.  _ No, I just got him back, I can’t lose him again. _

“Tony,” Peter says, voice scratchy. He fights his way to get to the group on the floor, feeling like he’s moving through molasses. Something catches him around the shoulders, and Peter tries to fight it.  _ Somebody, please- _ You’re not there.  _ I’m down here- _ No, you’re not. You’re helping Tony, crushed under rubble,  _ I wish Tony were here, _ he’s here, he’s right in front of you,  _ I upset him. He took my suit. I lost him.  _ You’re not- He’s not-

“Come on, kid.”  _ Kid. _ But it’s not Tony’s voice. “Give ‘em space, give ‘em room-”

“No-  _ Tony- _ ”

“They’ll take care of him, they will-”

Peter doesn’t hear the rest. He can’t fight anymore and his body gives out. He tumbles to the ground, slouching back against the wall. Sounds drum in his ears; his heart thuds from his chest; his vision blurs.

Tony.

_ I’m trapped. _

They’re wheeling him away.

_ I’m stuck, I can’t- _

I lost him.

_ I can’t breathe. _

He’s gone.

_ I’m gone. _

[ 7 ]

It’s a heart attack.

Rhodes comes to collect Peter from the floor, touching him on the shoulder and speaking slow words to wake him from his apathetic recollection of the experience that haunts him still. It takes Peter a minute to come back to the present, another to see Rhodes, another to remember what happened to Tony, and yet another for it all to come crashing down.

Rhodes holds Peter tight as he sobs, unable to hear much through his own heaving breaths. “Tony’s okay,” Rhodes says faintly, from somewhere far away. “I just saw him. Jarvis told me what- He’s okay, Peter, he’s okay.

“You did it.”

Peter leans heavily against Rhodes’ side as he’s led through corridors to the medbay waiting room. He sits heavily in a chair, looking ahead without seeing.  _ It’s him, his own fault. He ruined it all. He destroyed Tony’s memory and led him to drink and- and almost killed him- _

_ His fault. _

Sometime during it all, Peter’s body catches up with the exhaustion of his mind and he sleeps, too heavy for dreams and yet not heavy enough to rest. He rocks in and out of chaos and trauma, and a blankness of nothing at all.

[ 8 ]

By the time Rhodes shakes him awake, his neck feels glued in the wrong position, he has a pounding headache, and yet the waiting room is a golden colour, the dawn of a new day.

“We can go see him now,” Rhodes says, and Peter is blinking off any sleep that remains within the instant as he stands.

A hand on his arm catches him before he can topple, and Peter is brought face-to-face with May. “James filled me in,” she says. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Peter opens his mouth, wanting to respond, but unable to find the words. The tears arise without his consent and Peter sniffles before he sobs, the weight of the last fortnight weighing down on him. May catches one of his tears with her thumb. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “We’ll talk later, yeah?”  _ We’ll see Tony now. _ Swallowing thickly, Peter nods, and takes May’s arm.

Rhodes goes first, leading the way into Tony’s room. He takes his spot at the foot of Tony’s bed, expression inscrutable. Peter’s eyes go first to him, and then to May’s shoulder as he unknowingly cowers behind her.

He’s not ready to see Tony just yet, but Tony’s ready to see him.

“Peter.”

Peter presses closer against May’s back. He can’t-  _ he  _ did this. What if Tony really forgot, for good? What if he’s not the same ever again? What if he hadn’t survived the heart attack? What if-

“C’mon, kiddo,” Tony says, his voice soft. “Show me your face.” Peter feels like a child as he peers out from behind May. He squeezes her hand at the sight, and she squeezes back. He’s never liked hospitals.

Tony lays reclined in a bed with a heart monitor on and wires circulating his chest, hooked up to an IV and multiple beeping machines. Peter finds his face last, noting the pale skin and bags under his eyes -- and yet, Tony still manages to smile.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hey,” Peter whispers. Tony lifts an arm, waving Peter over. Peter steps out of May’s shadow with unsure, wobbling steps and eyes that he has to force to keep up.

“Yeah, come on over,” Tony murmurs as Peter nears. Tony reaches to pull out a chair and that makes Peter move faster, grabbing the chair before Tony can exert himself and settling in it. He finds himself face-to-face with Tony, who grins up at him, and only then does Peter realize all that struggling was a trap.

“Can I have a minute?” Tony asks the other two adults in the room. Peter feels his heartbeat pick up at the thought of being alone with Tony, and he begins worrying his lip because of it. Tony notices, eyes finding his and narrowing in a question of,  _ You alright? _

Those words, that movement of the eyes, and the whole deal is so incredibly  _ Tony _ that, for the first time in two weeks, Peter thinks,  _ Yeah. I am. _

May and Rhodes leave the room, the door sliding shut behind them, and Tony reclines back in his bed. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Okay, the vulture, that was a year ago, yeah?”

“Um, about there.”

“Yeah? Okay, so when were you going to tell me that a building fell on top of you?”

Peter stills, eyes blowing wide. “You-you remember.”

“Hell yeah, I remember.” Tony’s voice sounds angry, but his eyes are only sad. “Pete, why didn’t you come to me with that?”

Peter shrugs, feeling crushed under Tony’s gaze. He knows the answer will upset Tony, but he can’t lie to the man. “Thought you’d be upset with me,” he mumbles. Tony doesn’t say anything, and when Peter looks up the expression he sees makes him want to repeat the last two weeks over and over.  _ That  _ would hurt him less than this. Peter knows the heartbroken, disappointed look he sees now will haunt him for weeks.

“I’m sorry you felt that way,” Tony says quietly, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry you were scared to come to me. I’d like to think I’ve been doing everything in my power to  _ avoid _ that reaction, but then the ferry, and… fuck, the  _ drinking… _ ” Tony closes his eyes shut and lets out a long breath. He mutters something about his father, and Peter wants to oppose, but the fact that he was scared to be left alone with Tony, well, it’s not a comforting thought.

“I spiraled,” Tony admits, looking at the ceiling. “Now, I remember every thought I had before I found that damned video as well as everything after, and… shit, kid, seeing you like that,  _ hearing  _ you beg for help, I-”

The heart monitor spikes, and Tony swallows thickly. “I wanted to forget it all, your…  _ screams, _ me taking your suit, the fact that I drove you to that, the thought that I introduced you to this lifestyle in the first place. I just -- you’re made for so much better than this, and I guess that means you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.” He finally looks to Peter, and a bittersweet smile cracks his features. “What I mean to say, underneath all the incessant rambling, is,  _ I’m sorry. _ For… for everything, really.”

Peter’s shoulders release and he lets out a breath, and with it, all fear and worry accumulated during the last two weeks. He’s…  _ okay.  _ Tony’s okay.

Now, Peter has to look toward the future.

“Thank you,” Peter says, and Tony nods in understanding. It’s not forgiveness, because Peter still feels a twinge of fear sitting here, and he’s honestly surprised, after these weeks, when Tony speaks to him with kindness. So, no, it’s not forgiveness, but it’s something close. It’s something on the way.

Tony turns away and Peter thinks he’s reaching for something on the bedside table. And then, he hears a sniffle. “No more alcohol,” Tony mutters determinedly, his voice echoing against the far wall. “No more joyrides in the suit. I’m not letting that happen ever again. I can’t believe it happened  _ once, _ I… can’t believe I forgot you.”

Peter feels tears welling, and he looks away. He won’t lie that it hurt, having Tony look at him and seeing no recognition there.

“You remembered, though.”

Tony turns back, giving Peter a watery grin. “Yeah, because of you.” Tony nudges Peter’s chin, and it’s an endearing gesture, one a parent might show to a child. Peter chuckles and it feels so good he allows it to evolve into a laugh. Tony cracks a grin, and Peter wipes a tear. He doesn’t know if it’s sad, or happy.

One thing’s for sure: as strong as their own minds are, nothing can tear Peter and Tony apart.

[ 9 ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They will make their way back to [ 12 ] in time.


End file.
